Burn Baby Burn
by Catnatural
Summary: Sam's afraid of fire. Makes sense seeing as it claimed the life of his mom and girlfriend. But what happens after Jess's death? What if Sam can't do a simple salt and burn on a hunt because of this fear? Sounds better than the summary...


**Burn Baby Burn**

Ever thought it was strange that, after all the tragedies involving fire in the Winchesters' past, none of them seem that afraid of it? Sammy is…

The italics are the thoughts of the characters. Oh and I realised that it seems if Sam stutters a lot, but that's just me making him try not to cry…sorry about that =p. It also involves part of the Bloody Mary story line.

I apologise for the style of writing as I'm from Scotland, I tried to use American words but feel free to leave any comments with corrections. =D.

**Epilogue – Burn Jess, Burn.**

Sam grabbed the chocolate chip cookie off the counter and grinned at the post-it which was placed on the top of a mountain of cookies: _Missed you. Jess xxx. _He was so lucky to have her.

Lost in thought, he walked slowly into the bedroom, wondering where Jessica was, then he heard the shower running. He grinned again, and lay back on the bed, sighing contently and munching on the remainder of his cookie.

He closed his eyes and that's when he felt it. _A drip on his head. Damned pipes must be leaking again. _Another drop. _Odd. To thick to be water, almost like bloo-. _He opened his eyes in shock and a scream lodged in his throat as he stared up at his girlfriend who was pinned to the ceiling, blood dripping from a slit in her stomach.

"Why, Sammy?" she whispered, just before she erupted into flames.

"Jess!! No!!" he screamed, throwing his arms out in front of him in an attempt to hold on to her, and suddenly he was grabbed from behind.

"Sammy! Come on!" Dean groaned as he tried to obtain hold of a struggling Sam.

"Jess!" he struggled against Dean, stretching his arms out as far as he could trying to get to her.

Suddenly, he was outside, trying to let precious air into his lungs as Dean squeezed his shoulder.

Dean noticed a lone tear trailing down Sam's cheek, before Sam wiped it away, an expressionless mask replacing the one of horror that had been there only moments before.

Minutes later, Dean found Sam by the rear of the Impala, staring into it. Realising he was no longer alone; he turned to his older brother and said quietly, "We've got work to do."

**Chapter 1 – Breakdown.**

The ride back to Pine Valley Motel was deathly quiet. Dean inwardly cursed as he realised that was currently not the best terminology to be using. He stole a glance at Sam who was gazing straight ahead and not blinking, his body tense.

Eventually, the boys arrived at the motel, and Dean left Sam in the Impala whilst he booked a room, then carried all their – more his, actually – belongings into it. He successfully – after many failed attempts- managed to get an unresponsive Sam out of the car and into the room where he sat him down on the edge of the bed farthest from the door.

"Rightio, you can borrow my clothes for now, we'll get you some tomorrow, 'k Sammy?"

No answer.

"Do you want to go for a shower while I make some calls?" Dean tried again.

"Who you gonna call?" Sam murmured.

Another time, another place and Dean would have automatically replied: "Ghostbusters!", but he did not think Sammy would appreciate him trying to lighten the mood.

"Just Dad and Bobby, 'k?"

Sam nodded, his brown hair covering his eyes and his head was bowed down. He slowly walked to the bathroom and Dean pulled out his phone and dialled in John's number.

* * *

"Right, ok, thanks Bobby. Yeah, I'll tell him. Bye." Dean hung up and jumped when he saw Sam's head peeking from around the bathroom door. "You ok Sammy?"

"Dean…uh…I-I don't have any clothes…" Sam stammered, embarrassed.

"Oh shoot! It's ok, I said you could borrow mine, here." He said, throwing a set of pyjamas to his little brother. "We'll go to the mall tomorrow, okay?"

Sam just started gulping and his eyes widened.

"Sammy?" Dean demanded, concern building up, "What's wrong?"

"I can't do this! I…I have n-no laptop, n-no clothes and n-no J-Jess!" he sobbed, sliding down on to the bathroom floor.

Dean raced over and wrapped his arms around Sam's shaking body, "Hey, I'm here Sammy. It's ok, just let it all out kiddo," he rubbed Sam's back, trying to comfort him.

As soon as the breakdown had started, it was over and Sam stood up and glared at Dean, still holding the borrowed pyjamas in his hands.

"Huh? Ohhh, right, yeah, you get dressed and –I'll – um…go watch TV or something…" Dean rambled.

* * *

Sam came out of the bathroom; yawning as Dean looked up from the mindless TV he was watching. _Who cares about Oprah? Seriously? He smiled inwardly, stupid woman on TV didn't realise his wife was a bit too friendly with the gardener. _He glanced as Sam and asked, "You wanting to go to sleep, Sammy? I'll turn off the TV, as riveting as it is, I could do with hitting the sack."

Sam shrugged and walked over to his bed and sat on the end of it.

"'K, you hungry? I am." _Gotta be some kind of record, I've not eaten in what….2 ½ hours? _

Sam shook his head faintly, and then lay back on the bed staring at the ceiling.

"Sammy?"

"Why?"

"Sammy…?"

"Why did she die? She was a good person, she didn't deserve to die."

"I-I dunno Sam…" Dean whispered. _How the friggin' hell am I supposed to answer this one?_

"It's my fault" Sam murmured.

Dean sighed. _Why does the silly kid always blame himself for stuff he can't control? _"What are you talkin' about Sam?"

"It's my fault, Dean. She knew me, so it's my fault." Sam drew his knees up to his chin and stared at the wall intently.

"What the friggin' hell are you talkin' about? How the hell was it your fault? Sammy, you weren't even there, so you couldn't have done any-"

"Exactly, Dean. _**I wasn't there**_!" Sam yelled.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked, shocked.

"It _**is **_my fault! First mom, now Jess! Who-whatever did this, it wants _**me**_! It wants to _**hurt **_me, Dean!" Sam exploded.

"Yeah? Tell me college-boy, why would something want to hurt you?" Dean grimaced as his words came out harsher than he intended.

"I don't know. Can we just drop it? I'm tired." He yawned and got into bed, turning to face the wall. "Goodnight, Dean."

"Night, Sammy," Dean sighed.

**Chapter 2 – Nightmare and the Hunt.**

Water running. Cookies. Comfort. Happiness. Blood. Pain. Fear. Fire. Death. "Jess!"

Sam woke up in a panic, hair plastering his hair to his face and Dean was by his side in an instant. "Nightmare?"

Sam nodded, too afraid to talk.

"Wanna talk about it?" Dean asked, quietly, taking in his brother's exhausted expression.

"No. What are you doing on the laptop?"

Dean frowned at the change in subjects. Sam had always had nightmares as a kid, but now he looked terrified. _Must have dreamed about Jessica. Help._

"Dean?" Sam prompted.

"Oh, was just checkin' up on somethin' for Bobby."

"A hunt?"

"Well, yeah. But I said no, obviously. But I told him I was quite happy to do the research for him."

Sam sighed. _Thanks for trying, Dean. Not very subtle though. Probably not safe to leave me alone right now._

"I popped out to get some breakfast while you were in the land of nod. We have bagels and coffee!" Dean grinned.

Sam nodded absent-mindedly as he pulled his laptop from Dean and began to read:

**3****rd**** November 2005 – The Daily Pine**

**ENQUIRIES INTO TEEN SUICIDES CONTINUE**

**As the number of suicidal youngsters in Milwaukee hits double figures, local police are stunned to discover that the teenagers had all phoned families and friends one hour before they died, claiming to have just seen loved ones they had lost.**

**Enquiries are being made, and the Police are treating the deaths as suspicious.**

**For more information, please visit your local Police station but if you have heard or have seen anything that could help, please do not hesitate to call 0-**

"Sammy?" Dean prompted.

"Think it's supernatural?"

"Probably. Come and eat some breakfast Sammy-"

"We've got work to do, Dean! We've got to go talk to the parents and friends of these kids and see what-"

"No."

"What?" confusion etched on Sam's face.

"Sammy, Jessica died last night. We are not going on a hunt." Dean stated firmly.

"But-"

"I said no, Sam".

"De-"

"No. End of conversation."

"_**Fine**_." And Sam stormed off into the bathroom.

"Samantha? You alive in there? Some of us have gotta take a leak toy know! I don't really fancy using the window again in case old Mrs Watson is out sleep walking again!" He grinned as he remembered that night. _Poor, old, unsuspecting Mrs Watson. She would never smell like violets again. _

The bathroom door opened to reveal a very pale and tired looking Sam.

"Sammy?"

"It's Sam."

"Ok, ok, what's wrong kiddo?"

"Dean…can we just-" Sam paused.

"Yeah?"

"Can we please go on this hunt?" He put up a hand to stop Dean's protest. "No. Don't. I need this, Dean. _**Please**_."

"Sammy. I don't think it's a good idea-" he was interrupted by Sam's phone ringing, its owner staring at it as if it had just sprouted a pair of antlers and was dancing an Irish jig. "Are you gonna answer it or just look at it?"

Sam picked it up, flipped it open, and answered faintly, "Hello?", then paled as whoever it was, introduced themselves.

"O-oh, hel-hello, Mrs Moore."

"Hi Sam"

"O-oh, hel-hello, Mrs Moore."

"Sweetie…I- the Police- Jessica's- Jess is-" she broke down as Sam had one thought constantly running through his head : _Oh god, oh god, oh god._

"I-I know…"

"Yes, they said you- what- what happened, Sam?"

"I- I dunno. I just a-arrived and the flat – I couldn't – I tried to-" Sam rambled as he tried to prevent himself joining Mrs Moore with the waterfall of tears he could feel building up inside of him.

"I know, honey. The funeral's on Sunday at 11 at the church down the road from us…okay?"

"Y-yeah…"

"Ok, darlin'. I'll see you then."

"B-bye." Sam hung up and turned to face Dean.

"Who was it?"

"Jess's mum." Sam paused. " The funeral is on Sunday."

Dean nodded. _What can I say? If I try to comfort him, a joke will slip out. How can I make this all better with just words?_

"I- do you have a spare suit I can borrow…?" Sam looked up, his hazel eyes piercing through Dean's body.

"We'll hire ones, 'k?"

"You're comin' with me?" Sam looked genuinely shocked.

"Sammy, I'm not gonna make you do this on your own, ok? I'm here for you bro." he said, squeezing Sam's shoulder.

"I- how can they have a funeral for her, Dean? There's no body, it'll just be _**empty**_, and there was nothing _**left**_!" he whispered the last word, fiercely as a fire burned in his eyes.

"Closure, I guess. Acceptance?"

Sam nodded and then came the awkward silence. Dean started whistling in an attempt to break the tension.

"Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Today's Monday, and the funeral's not till Sunday…right?"

Dean nodded curiously.

"Can we please go on that hunt? _**Please**_? It'll take my mind off of J-everything…"

"Fine. But if I say we pull out, you listen to me, ok?" Dean agreed.

Sam nodded as Dean continued, " I've already packed, so grab your junk and I'll meet you in the car…".

Milwaukee was a lovely little town. Honestly. Freshly mown lawns. Gnomes in the gardens with little hats and fishing rods. It made Dean want to throw up his breakfast. _Though it's what Sammy wanted : white picket fence, a lawyer job, 2.5 kids, a dog…Jess…_He stopped thinking – he couldn't function without his coffee in the morning and he didn't trust Sam enough to leave him alone at the moment. He risked a glance at the said little brother who was staring intently at the dashboard, as if he'd never seen one before.

"Sammy? We're here." Dean announced, waking Sam out of his trance.

"So what's our first move?" Sam yawned.

"Hmmm, well, all we know is what was written in the paper. We gotta find out what we're dealin' with…anythin' in Dad's journal?"

Sam shrugged, opening up the journal, " So you think thins _**thing **_can imitate dead people?"

"Looks like it. Can't say I've ever heard of anythin' like it…'cept maybe a Wendigo-"

"They imitate voices, Dean…"

"Yeah, smart-ass, I know! I was sayin', a Wendigo imitates voices, whereas this thing, well according to this –" Dean waved the newspaper, "- it imitates dead people, so….maybe it's some kind of demon?"

"Maybe." Sam mumbled as he continued to flick through John's journal.

"Hey, Sam? If it's a demon, we know how to summon it, but what if it's something we've not experienced yet? Or worse, remember those Ghostbuster dudes?"

"Ghostfacers, Dean."

"Yeah, them, well remember how the guy who was the legend on their stupid website kept changing just 'cos the legend kept changing depending on what people believed in? What if this thing is like that? What if it's a Tulpa?"

"God…I hope not. Well…we can safely say it's not a Wendigo, or a Vampire, Werewolf, or Shtriga-"

"Or no godamn freakin' scarecrow" Dean was happy to see Sammy smile faintly. "Maybe it's a vengeful spirit…or wait! A Shapeshifter?"

"Hmm…but doesn't the Shapeshifter kidnap the person it's imitating? " Sam asked.

"Well, yeah, but how-"

"All the bodies were found, and the victims are seeing people that they knew who had died before they died themselves…so I don't think a Shapeshifter is involved…"

"Killjoy. Just 'cos you're the college boy doesn't mean you're always right, you know." Dean pouted.

"Dude, you _**hate **_libraries!"

"Yeah, but dude…hot librarians! College girls! Don't tell me all you did at Stanford was study?"

Sam simply shrugged, and resumed flicking through John's journal.

Dean sighed. _Okaaay, sore topic. Need to watch what I say around Sammy at the moment._

"So how do you think this monster chooses it's victims then, Sammy-boy?"

"Well…I've wrote up a list of the victims…" Sam searched his pockets and found a piece of paper which he began to read off, "Eva Ryan, 3rd year Bio-med student…clean record. Dennis Jones, a mechanic, also a clean record…Margaret Knight, Katie Tucker and Cory Smith…they were all clean too…so why'd they die?"

"Dean shrugged, "Let's go talk to the relatives."

**Chapter 3 – Problems**

"Thank you for your time, Mrs Ryan. We'll be in touch as soon as we find anything." Sam said politely as they left the little house.

Once back in the Impala, Dean turned to Sam and groaned, "Why do we always have to be somebody that wears a suit? I feel like I'm being strangled!" He pulled off his tie, undid his top two buttons and switched the radio on, "Aaah, that's better."

"I don't get it. We've talked to all the relatives and none of them mentioned that the victims had anything that could have gotten them killed – We _**need **_to find this thing before it kills anyone else, Dean."

"And how are we going to do that?"

"We're going to summon it." Sam stated.

"How the friggin' hell are we going to summon _**it**_, when we don't know what _**it **_is?!" Dean demanded.

"I don't know, but all the victims died in the same area, so I say we go there tonight and see what happens. It can't hurt, can it?" Sam decided.

Dean groaned, "Why do we always have to hunt the bad guys at night, Sammy"

Dean started out of the front window of the Impala and groaned in frustration. _Three freakin' hours and no sign of anything supernatural…_

"Hey, Dean?"

"Uh huh," Dean yawned.

"I have a theory-"

"Oh god help us all-"

"Shut up!" Sam snapped.

"Fine, what's this fantastic magnificent theory of yours, Sammy-boy?" Sam scowled and Dean, then said, "Remember when I was about ten and you and dad hunted down Bloody Mary?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah, she was one freaky lady. What's that gotta do with this though? None of these victims looked into a mirror, or none of their eyes were gouged out-"

"Dean!" Sam interrupted, "Let me explain, will you!"

"Whaaaat?" Dean moaned, "Some time today would be nice, I'll be getting my free bus pass soon-"

"Well, I came up with a theory while you were sleeping and I checked the internet as well. All these people had a secret-"

"A bit like Bloody Mary? She gouged out the eyes of whoever had the secret, didn't matter if they said it into the mirror or not."

"Yeah, but as well as these people just having a secret, it was where someone died, like Bloody Mary. But it's different though, as whatever this _**thing **_is, it can imitate the person who died – basically the person who is the secret," Sam explained.

Dean went silent as his brain processed all the information, "Have we ever come across something like this before?"

"Not that I know of. I've checked Dad's journal and I phoned Bobby, and I can't find anything…"

"Hmm… what are the secrets of the dead people? I dunno, but it could give us a clue as to who the killer is? Vengeful spirit maybe? God, I hope it's a good cheerleader," Dean smirked.

"Dean…upstairs brain please." Sam shook his head and smiled faintly, "Well…Eva's boyfriend died in a car crash… she was driving…uh…Dennis Jones….he saw his wife die, but rumours are tat he killed her," Sam clicked another page on the internet. "Margaret Knight apparently shoved her husband down the stairs-"

"Seriously? Awesome." Dean laughed.

"It's not funny, Dean! God…Katie Tucker was only ten years old, but she was….a bit crazy…says here she killed her mum-"

"How?"

"Uh…" Sam clicked the link, "She poisoned her."

"Eeep, remind me never to get on the wrong side of her-"

"And Cory Smith, 17 years old…he shot another kid after saying he was being bullied by him." Sam summarised and closed the laptop.

"I'll say it again. Demons I get, people are crazy." Dean scowled.

"Dean! Look! There's someone out by the lake!" Sam cried.

The older hunter jumped, "Holy mother of Jesus! It's a…what is it?" He grew extremely confused as he tried to make out what the shape was.

Sam sat up in horror, "No!"

"Sammy? Sam?" Dean demanded, "What's- Sam?" he shouted as Sam jumped out of the car and ran towards the figure. "Friggin' hell, Sam!"

He sighed, got out of the car, breaking into a run to follow after his little brother. He swore when he realised who the figure was. "Jessica?"

"Jess?" Sam whispered as he approached the figure, who was wearing a white nightgown and had blonde hair which was billowing out around her as the wind strengthened.

"Sammy?"

"Jess- what are you – you're dead! I saw you burn! You can't be-"

"You killed me, Sammy."

"Jess! I'm so sorry! I didn't kn-"

"You did know! You dreamt it would happen! You just didn't tell me because you _**knew **_what I'd think of you!" she shouted, each word piercing through Sam.

"J-Jess?" Sam was kneeling on the ground, staring up at his dead girlfriend.

"You _**knew**_ I'd think you were a _**freak**_! And it's true! You killed me Sam!" she shrieked.

"Get back you freaky ass demon!" Dean shouted, "Or I'll shoot you full of rock salt!"

The figure turned around and suddenly her face changed from Jess's into a middle-aged black-haired woman.

"Is that your natural form?" Dean enquired.

"Yes. How did you know I was a demon? None of the other victims managed to work it out, and if they did, they died before they could do anything about it."

"I'm not a victim and the real Jessica wouldn't say stuff like that to Sam. She loved him." Dean said simply, "Plus, I vaguely remember being told about you freaky things before – you're not a Shapeshifter like I thought, you're a stupid demon that was once a witch! You transform into dead people and feed of your victims' guilt and then kill them! Just for fun! Well you ain't getting Sammy!"

The demons' eyes flared and she changed back into Jessica, and turned to Sam, "Sammy?"

Sam looked up, tears falling down his face, "Jess?"

"Sam! That's not Jess! It's a demon!" Dean yelled, waving his arms about frantically to catch his brother's attention.

"Sam! You killed me, and I can't ever forgive you! There's only one way to fix this…you love me don't you?" The demon spat.

"Yes! I-I'll do anything, Jess, just tell me what you want me to do." Sam whispered sadly. _If I do this for her, she might forgive me for getting her killed._

"You have to jump in the lake, Sammy! Jump in the lake and we can be together forever!"

"Sam! Don't you dare! Sammy? You have to shoot her! It'll destroy her; I remember how to do it now!" Dean shouted.

"Dean?" Sam faltered.

"Do it Sam!"

"I-I-burn…Jess? Again?" Sam whispered, looking horrified.

"Don't listen to him, Sammy! Join me!" The demon yelled.

Sam stared at her. "Jess?"

"Sam!" she shrieked as Dean aimed his gun at her. "Don't let him kill me, Sammy! I can't burn again! I love you!"

Sam jumped up and charged at Dean, attempting to seize the gun, but Dean shot at the demon then grabbed Sam, holding on to him as the bullet hit its target and went up in flames.

"Jess! No!" Sam screamed, thrashing in Dean's arms, trying to get to Jess.

"Sam! Its-not-her!" Dean gritted his teeth as he struggled to get a better hold on Sam.

"Dean? Jess! Not again!" Sam's body started shaking and as Dean rubbed his shoulder softly, Sam let the tears fall, soaking Dean's leather jacket as the brothers held on to each other even tighter.

"It's ok, Sammy. I got ya. Let it all out, Kiddo. It's over now, ssshh." He soothed.

**Chapter 4 – The Sixth Sense and Revelations.**

After that hunt, Sam hardly spoke. He hardly ate and he rarely slept. Anytime he actually managed to fall asleep, he'd be plagued by nightmares, wake up screaming Jess's name and would then run to the bathroom to be violently sick.

It had been nearly a week since that hunt, and Dean wasn't getting much sleep either. He didn't know what to do or say to comfort Sam, but then he had an idea.

"Sammy?" Dean asked gently, looking over at Sam who was staring at the laptop screen, holding his third cup of coffee in his hand. _No wonder he can't sleep at night with all that caffeine in his system…_

"Yeah?"

"Wanna go to Bobby's for a bit? I could sure do with a break from hunting…"

Sam shrugged, looking up at Dean.

"Well, you go have a shower dude, and I'll go pack everything into the Impala, 'k?"

Sam nodded and practically crawled to the bathroom. He still couldn't get the smell of smoke off his body, and it had been a week since the fire.

They arrived at Bobby's eight hours later. Dean drove. Sam either stared into space or looked on the laptop. _Probably for a hunt or something. _Dean sighed.

As they approached the house, Bobby came out and smiled grimly. _What am I gonna do? These Winchester's will kill me one of these days!_

Dean brought the car to a stop, got out and stretched and yawned, then banged on the Sam's window. "Come on, Sammy! We're here."

"Hey boys!" Ellen smiled.

"Ellen! What are you doin' here? Don't tell me…you and Bobby got hitched!" Dean exclaimed, pulling the older woman into a hug and smirking.

"Haha, very funny. Na, I was just passing through, thought I'd stop and say hi. How are you doin' Dean? Sam… you ok, honey?" Ellen asked the youngest gently, letting go of Dean and pulling Sam into a hug.

He tensed, and then slowly let himself be embraced by the woman who was as close to a mother as the Winchester boys would ever experience in their adult life.

"Oh, honey! You're getting so thin! When's the last time you ate somethin'?" Ellen exclaimed.

Sam shrugged as he racked his brain. _When did I last eat? Yesterday? Couple of days ago? Does it really matter anymore?_

"He's not been eating, sleeping or talking much since…well a couple a weeks anyways," Dean informed her as Sam glared at him.

"Oh honey! Right! You boys sit yourselves down and I'm gonna make you some pancakes, 'k?" Ellen ordered them, pulling on the cleanest apron she could find.

"Mmmm, pancakes," Dean drooled as Bobby exclaimed in shock, "Oi! This is my kitchen, El and I say who-"

"Bobby Singer! I make the best pancakes in the area! You said so yourself, so you sit down and let me cook!" she smiled.

Dean grinned. _This is what family is. Okay, so we're not related to either one of them, but so what? _He glanced at Sam who was gazing at the tablecloth, a frown upon his face as he was lost deep in thought. He suddenly got up and walked over to the window where he tensed up, his eyes widening in shock.

Bobby and Ellen stopped their bickering when Dean called out, "Sam? What's wrong, kiddo?"

Sam continued staring as he started mouthing something to himself.

"Sammy?" Dean walked over to his little brother and looked out the window, "What are you lookin' at?"

Sam spun around and whispered, "Can you not see her, Dean?"

"See who, Sammy?" Dean asked, worried.

"She's standing right by the Impala, Dean!"

"Who, Sammy?"

"Jess."

Dean just stared at Sam._ What the hell?_

"Come on boys; sit down, foods on the table." Ellen ordered, shakily.

Dean, Bobby and Ellen all sat down and made small talk – Sam resumed gazing at the tablecloth – until Bobby brought up the topic of the previous hunt.

"Ever find out what killed all those kids?"

"Yeah, was a demon that was once a witch," Dean explained. "Nasty mother fu-"

"Dean Winchester! I oughta wash your mouth out with soap!" Ellen laughed.

"Sorry m'am," Dean smirked. "You love me too much to do that anyways."

"How did it do it?" Bobby demanded, seeming oblivious to Ellen and Dean's fake argument, "I looked in all my books, asked all the hunters I could think of."

"Fed off guilt. Like the Bloody Mary. Guilty secret where someone die- holy Jesus!" Dean swore and swung round to face Sammy who jumped, "How- why did she come after you?"

Sam gulped and looked as if he wished the floor would cave in and swallow him whole.

"Sammy…."

"I-I…"

"This is about Jessica, isn't it? You think she's your dirty little secret…that you killed her somehow? This has gotta stop man, the nightmares – and – and calling her name out in the middle of the night…it's _**killing **_you!" Dean stormed.

"It's true." Sam whispered.

"What?!" Dean shouted.

"She was right. Everything that she said down by the lake was true, Dean!"

"That wasn't Jessica, Sam! It was just a stupid demon!"

"But everything she said was true. I _**didn't**_ tell her 'cos she'd think I was a freak! It was hard enough trying to think of a believable reason for the salt lines and the symbols and the knife I kept under my-"

"Didn't tell her what, Sammy?" Dean asked quietly.

Sam closed his mouth and pleaded with his eyes.

"Nuh-uh. Puppy eyes are not gonna work this time, Sammy. So what's the big secret?"

Sam looked back down at the table cloth, and continued in a barely audible voice, "About a week before she… before _**it **_happened, I started having nightmares…I thought it was just the stress of the exams you know? But every night for that week, I-I had the same dream…I-I couldn't tell her, Dean! She'd think I was crazy!"

Ellen walked up to Sam and rubbed his shoulder as Dean asked, "What was the dream about?"

Sam frowned, "i-it- I dreamt of her dying, the…the exactly way it happened, with- with the shower and the cookies and – and the blood and the fire…" Tears welled up in his eyes and he sniffed. "I thought I was going crazy or something, but now every night, I'm still dreaming it! I-I just don't know what to do."

Dean suddenly sat up straight. "Funeral's tomorrow. If we leave now, we'll just make it-"

Sam shook his head. "I-I can't. I'll- I'll just go phone Mrs Moore and tell her…" he muttered and walked out the room, leaving Dean, Bobby and Ellen to stare at each other in horror.

"What am I gonna do?" Dean whispered hoarsely.

"You're gonna phone yer daddy, that's what." Bobby ordered.

**Chapter 5 – Papa Winchester.**

John frowned as he opened his phone. _25 missed calls, 5 messages…oops. _He opened his most recent voice-mail, to hear his oldest son attempting to prevent himself for yelling at his father and breaking down: _'Dad? You plannin' on answerin' your freakin' phone? I swear to God- oh, never mind! I'll say it one last time, we __**need **__you! Sam's girlfriend was killed a couple of weeks ago, same as mom and I don't know what to do! He's not coping Dad! __**Please**__-". _And the message ended as John stared at his phone and whispered, "Oh dear god. I'm so sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry baby."

Sam woke up panting, perspiration running down his face. He glanced over to the other bed and saw the sleeping form of Dean. He let out a relieved sigh, and then crept out to the bedroom, deciding that a glass of water and some fresh air might relax him enough to fall into a deep sleep where he wouldn't constantly replay Jess's death in his dreams. He walked downstairs into the living room where Bobby was chatting to Ellen.

Ellen looked up when he entered and immediately asked, "Honey? What's wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep." Sam mumbled, yawning and dragging his hand through his hair.

"Sam, you look exhausted, boy. Dean said you'd been havin' nightmares?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah." He scratched his head awkwardly.

"Hey, kiddo. Yer dad phoned, he's on his way. In fact, he should be here round about now." Bobby continued.

Sam nodded, then turned around as Dean entered the room, hair all ruffled from sleep.

"What the friggin' hell are you doin' up, Sammy? It's 5:30!" Dean yawned, "Another nightmare?"

Sam nodded again as John came through the front door. He smiled at Dean and pulled Sam into a hug, stroking his hair. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry."

A few hours later, after everyone had gone back to bed- even Sam – and got some well-deserved rest, they were all sitting around the table in Bobby's kitchen, various pieces of paper, maps and John's journal scattered on it.

"So, this map shows all demonic activity in nearby states and I found one from the months at the end of 1982 and months and the end of 1983-"

"When I was born?" Sam asked curiously.

"Yeah, May 2nd, 1983, " John smiled. "We also have a lot of information on electrical storms and such – all signs of demonic activity. I also have a list of families that had a sixth month infant on the 2nd of November, 1983 and-" he paused.

"Dad?" Dean questioned.

"There were four others and- all their mothers died in the nursery like Mary."

Dean looked at John in horror, "There's _**four**_ of them?"

"Yes. And-" John continued, as he was interrupted by Sam.

"Wait! Don't you guys get it? Whatever killed these moms is after the children!" Sam snapped. "It wants the kids and the mom's get in the way! So.." he paused, the continued quietly, "Jess must have been in the way too. For whatever this thing wants."

Bobby, Ellen, Dean and John stared at Sam, then Dean exploded, "What have I told you Sam?! _**It's-not-your-fault!**_"

"Dean! It's killing people who wanted to save me! It killed mom and Jess- they loved me and- and- I _**gotta **_kill it before it gets you guys! I'm not losing more- I can't- I –I" Sam was interrupted by Dean pulling Sam into a hug,

"Dean?" Sam whispered questioningly.

"Shut up, Sammy."

"You _**hate **_hugs."

"Sammy…" Dean warned.

"It would definitely be classified as a chick-flick moment-"

"Sam. Would you just shut up? This is the only hug you will ever get from me, so enjoy it."

Sam grinned and eventually Dean pulled away. "Thanks, Dean."

"Eugh, that was so weird. Sam, thanks dude. I now feel gay!"

Sam laughed, "Well, the leather jacket-"

"Shut up, Sam!" Dean pouted and the Winchesters', Bobby and Ellen all laughed.

Dean smiled. _Everything was good; he'd made Sammy smile. So, ok, some stupid whatever maybe wants Sam. It killed our mom and his girlfriend. He's not completely over it, but that's ok, we've got plenty of time. I made him smile, and that's all that matters._

_**THE END**_


End file.
